Ambush
by Mannariel
Summary: Ghost Adventures Fic.  All Zak wants is sleep, but things don't go that way when he is attacked from behind and forced to deal with his kidnappers and their attitudes.  He definitely gets more than he bargained for.


**Synopsis:** All Zak wants is sleep, but things don't go that way when he is attacked from behind and forced to deal with his kidnappers and their attitudes.

**Ambush**

It had been a long night and all Zak wanted was to get into his hotel room and climb into bed. He didn't notice the two black-clad figures that had followed him from the lobby. He hadn't noticed as each had ducked into the stairwell as he exited the elevator on his floor, nor that they had taken the time to slip on matching black ski masks. His fatigue made him oblivious to everything until the second he inserted his key card into the slot on his hotel room door and he felt something sharp press into his back.

"Don't make a sound, don't turn around. Just go inside." A hand pushed him roughly from behind and he stumbled forward into the room.

Zak was wide awake now. His mind sped through the last few seconds and several scenarios and predicted outcomes based on possible actions. In seconds he had discarded them all. "What do you want?" He raised his hands instinctively away from his body to show that his hands were empty. The key card to his room had slipped from nerveless fingers upon entry. "Money? I don't have anything of value on me but there's a laptop over in-"

"We haven't come here for your money, Zak." The voice was a whispered rasp and a chill ran down his spine at the familiar use of his name. He'd never realized it before, but voices were virtually unidentifiable as a whisper. It could have been any male on the planet speaking to him, even a friend, and he wouldn't have been able to tell the difference. "We've come here just for _you_. Now take off your pants."

"What?"

"You heard me. How do we know you're not hiding a weapon on you somewhere? Take OFF your pants. Slowly," a slight increase in pressure on the sharp object poking into his lower back punctuated the demand.

Zak inhaled a shaky breath and steeled himself to comply. He unconsciously tried to turn his head to look behind him at his assailants as he reached for his belt buckle. A sharp slap across the back of his head discouraged him.

A second whispered voice immediately followed, "I thought he told you not to turn around!"

"Sorry." His shaking hands fumbled with his button and zipper and his breathing increased. The dark haired man tried to bring his respiration back under control but his thundering heart would not be calmed. Black fabric pooled around his ankles and he stepped forward in just his boxer briefs. "There. Happy now?"

"Not yet. Put your hands on the back of your head."

Zak moved to comply in as smooth a motion as possible. The tension was sharply defined in the muscles of his back and it was now fairly clear that he was shaking where he stood.

One of his assailants hands snaked around from behind him and checked the pockets of his hoodie while the other continued to press the sharp point against him. The hand trailed from one pocket, across is abs to the other before dropping lower to cup his package through the front of his shorts. The trembling male squeezed his eyes shut and breathed harshly out through his nose. He could feel himself coloring at this humiliation.

"Just checking for concealed weapons," came the hissed whisper in his ear. Zak could practically feel the perverted leer coming from the masked man behind him. The man's companion snickered from behind and slightly off the the left and Zak fought not to sob. "Now, go stand at the foot of the bed."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Just do what I say!" A strong hand fisted in his short hair and he was frog marched to the place that a few minutes ago he had been looking forward to spending some quality time in. The other, slightly more solid male made his presence known as he pulled both of Zak's arms down to his sides.

The sharp point was momentarily removed from his back so his hoodie could be ripped down his arms and he saw this as an opportunity to make a move. As soon as his hands were free of the garment, Zak tried to duck and twist out from under the presence of the two men but they must have been anticipating just such a maneuver. He was able to move just enough towards the door to be met with a solid knee to the stomach. He stayed doubled over in his crouch only briefly. Quickly the hand was back in his hair and he was suddenly slammed face first onto the bed. His arms were wrenched behind his back and held there in a vise like grip.

The spiky haired man noted through squinted eyes, a glint reflected off the metal of his attackers' weapon. He didn't get a great look at it, but the blade looked very thin and extremely sharp. It had an odd shape, however so he ruled out a filleting knife used for fish or very fine cuts. The blade was straight rather than curved. Understanding suddenly dawned on Zak's face.

"So you wanna try anything else or was one lesson enough for today?"

The other masked face lowered to the level of his ear, "Naw, do it again! We watch your show you know. You said you like it rough!" A laugh sounded from behind him.

Suddenly Zak's shirt collar pulled tight to the front of his neck. A second later, his hands were released and a loud ripping sound could be heard before the fabric fell completely slack. He didn't have time to lever himself up before his hands were once again pulled roughly together and were bound with a length of some type of textured fabric. He realized now what had happened. His shirt had been ripped from top to bottom, exposing his back to the eyes of his aggressors. He felt the blade dragged lightly down his flesh and shuddered.

"So you do like it a little on the kinky side." The thinner man proceeded to rip the rest of the shirt from his body before folding it over on itself to form a somewhat uniform rectangle. This was then placed over his eyes and tied with another strip of the same coarse fabric which bound his wrists.

"I don't know what you're talking about! Look guys, I'm sure we can work something out just...don't do anything crazy." Zak's voice shook slightly during this exchange, but the tone of it seemed to have changed. It was now edged with a certain amount of excitement, like he knew something that no one else did.

"Like, crazy how? Crazy like taking a man hostage in his own hotel room at knife point? That kind of crazy? I think we're a little too late to deny the crazy."

"You know, you can't really do anything to me. My friends are in the next room right now and they'll be right over here if they think something's up."

"Why the hell would your faggy-ass friends come into the room of a single man other than to fuck him into the mattress?"

"Because I have nightmares. They say my screaming bothers them so they come to wake me up." In spite of the blindfold over his eyes and the obvious disadvantage of his position, his voice held a smug tone.

"How do you think we found you? We took those fags out first." The smugness was now owned by the larger male in the ski mask. "Any other bright ideas, or should we get down to business?"

In the silence that followed, Zak could clearly hear the sliding of fabric and the tell-tale ping of static electricity as the ski masks were removed from mussed hair. If he could work the blindfold off then he could find out the identity of his assailants. And then they could kill him because he could identify them. Shit. He knew from his state of undress where events were leading and there was nothing he could do about it. He let his body go completely limp in resignation.

Soon there were no more distractions and hands lifted him onto his knees by the shoulders. He was forced to move higher up the bed and he was bent forward slightly, his head resting against a muscled thigh.

"You just want me? That's it? Everybody gets to go home when all this is over?"

"That'll all depend on how well you perform for us. Bark like a trained seal and we'll let you go. Fight us anymore and we'll ruin you. In more ways than one," came the sinister reply.

"What's the point of all this? What's in it for you?"

"Nothing more than the fact that we got to bag Zak Bagans!" A closed hand brushed the side of his face and he could acutely hear the noise a metal blade makes when one runs their thumb across it, back and forth. A veiled threat lay there, so close to so many important parts...

"Now, no more talking. Make good use of that mouth of his," the voice from behind directed the man at his head, "see if he can still talk around you then!"

In a very short second, Zak heard a zipper being pulled down, his jaw was roughly forced open and something long and hard was shoved inside. He grunted through his nose in protest but had no further room as he was given his next order.

"What are you waiting for? Get to work!" Zak clenched his eyes tightly behind the blindfold and started to tentatively swipe his tongue back and forth, up and around the cock in his mouth. He noted the saltiness briefly and couldn't help but notice that this tasted somewhat familiar. A moan from above interrupted his musings and the snap of a bottle lid flicking open behind him kicked his heartbeat into a higher gear.

He knew what would be coming next. He was just grateful that his assailant had been thoughtful enough to consider lube a necessity. Sure enough a cold stream could be felt between his cheeks a second later. He felt it slide down his crack and start dripping off his balls to the bedding between his knees. He shivered involuntarily and tried to shift his position slightly to take some strain off his neck and back muscles. The hand of the larger man whose cock was in his mouth moved around to the back of his head to make sure he would finish what he was working on. Finally, a probing finger circled hastily around his opening before abruptly driving home. He flinched away from the intrusion and inhaled sharply. A slight twinge of pain followed.

"What? I thought you'd be plenty stretched out after so much time with those faggy friends of yours. Don't tell me you don't like this." The thinner man twisted the finger cruelly in his opening and Zak moaned around the dick now working slowly in his mouth, bumping the back of his throat.

"Oh god, do that again. It feels awesome when he hums like that." The movement was promptly repeated and Zak found himself pushing further towards the crotch in his face just to get further away from the situation. He fought not to clench his jaw. He fought not to try to run away for it would have done him no good.

"You know, if you don't stay still, I can't prep you properly." The finger was removed slightly faster than was prudent, "your loss, I guess." The scratch of a zipper sounded out and fabric rustled behind him. Zak then felt strong fingers drag down his shoulders, scratch across his ribs and settle harshly into the flesh of his hips. The voice that had been hissing at him from behind until now grew surprisingly gentle for the next statement. "You might want to relax for this."

Hips pistoned forward and warm steel seated itself to the hilt inside Zak. The blindfolded man screamed through his nose at the blinding pain. The hands digging into the flesh of his hips relaxed their grip and slid down his thighs. They crept up the front and in between his legs in an almost soothing motion. This was done repeatedly as Zak tried to get his breathing under control once more. He hadn't realized that small whimpers were escaping him and the hand on his head was now petting his hair and stroking between his muscular should blades.

"Let the games begin." With that declaration, dual sets of hips began pumping in earnest. A strong hand grasped at Zak's dick and started kneading the flesh there. Much to the trapped man's dismay, he found himself responding to the rough treatment. Sweat was beading on his lower back and trembling thighs. His shoulders burned from being drawn back for so long and his neck was starting to get a serious kink from the awkward position of his head. The fire was now gaining a pleasurable quality in his lower half, however.

Two hands once again found themselves pulling harshly on his short hair and wet gagging sounds issued from Zak's mouth. He tried his best to draw in much needed air through his nose but he quickly found that he couldn't keep up with his stressed body's demands. His torment seemed to go on forever and a growing sense of panic was expanding in his chest. Luckily his attacker in front noticed.

All pretense ceased and a concerned voice, now devoid of the whispered quality spoke to his partner, "may be we should start wrapping this up. I don't know how much more he can take."

"Sounds good to me."

The speed of the assault changed and the hips slamming against him from behind suddenly changed their angle. Zak's face registered surprise as his prostrate was forcibly struck several times in quick succession. The fist on his now fully erect cock stroked him with expert precision and he could feel a new tension and urgency in the man in front of him.

Just as Zak was running on his last reserves of oxygen, he felt a salty blast hit the back of his tongue and throat. His sore jaws were suddenly allowed to close around empty air and he collapsed forward onto his face, gasping. Before he had even taken two breaths, he felt the familiar tightening in his own body. He tensed, stiff as a board, before shooting his own load and letting nothingness take him. He finally blacked out.

Zak did not feel the final couple of thrusts from Nick behind him or the cum mixed with lube running down his thighs. He was not aware of careful hands undoing the knots on the blindfold and sliding it off his sweaty face. He was just coming around, however, when the last of the knots were removed from his wrists and sure fingers dug into his upper arms to start working out the soreness.

"You owe me a back rub." The naked man on the bed turned toward the two black clad men with the shit eating grins on their faces who were now trying to make him comfortable.

"So when did you figure out that it was me and Nick?"

"When I realized I was being poked with a nail file instead of a knife!"

"Yeah, but we could tell you loved every minute of it," Nick pulled off his black shirt and lay down beside Zak. "Face it, dude. You were just made to be tied up and used. You make the hottest fucking noises when you're helpless."

Aaron also removed his clothing and joined the two men on the bed. He pulled Zak to his chest and tucked the mans head beneath his chin. "I could have you suck me all day long and never get tired of that mouth," he pulled Zak up for a deep kiss, tasting himself still lingering on the other man's tongue. "The kinky shit you're into still freaks me out sometimes, but as long as you're enjoying it, we'll keep tying you up and smackin' you around, bro."

"I'll be honest. You guys had me shitting myself for the first five minutes. I know we talked about playing out a kidnapping before, but I didn't think you'd actually take me up on it." Zak settled further onto Aaron's broad chest and started letting himself drift away. The last thing he registered was another mass of warmth settle against his back and a warm blanket settling over his exhausted body. "...Thanks."

"I think he's going to be keeping us plenty entertained on the road," Nick commented. "Not that he's not fun to hang out with to begin with, but this just adds a whole new element to being away from home so much."

"Yeah," his bald companion answered, "I could get used to these kinds of games." With that, the trio settled in for a brief period of sleep before yet another night in the cold and darkness of their chosen careers. Those kinds of shared experiences tended to create a stronger bond than anyone outside of it could possibly understand, but that suited all three men just fine. They'd keep themselves together, one way or another.


End file.
